Revelation of a Past Life
by TimeTravelFreak
Summary: While he sits in his cell during his self-imposed confinement, Light thinks about the Death Note, that gives and takes lives at the whim of fate.


Relevations of a Past Life

Disclaimer: DN doesn't belong to me.

This story was inspired by this amv:

www . youtube . com/watch?v kfXWuPe0UfE (just remove the spaces to view it)

Timeline: It's set before Light gives up his ownership of the Death Note and before he is handcuffed to L, while sitting in his cell.

I hope you enjoy it!

* * *

Sometimes Light couldn't help but wonder how on earth he had gotten to the point he had.

He thought about that while sitting in his cell, the chains restricting his arms and legs, making it impossible for him to get comfortable.

Of course, intellectually he knew that he had picked up the notebook that the Shinigami Ryuuk had thrown into the human world and had started to create a perfect world, but sometimes he couldn't help but wonder what had let him go from something society called 'genius' and 'perfect student' to someone that was hunted by about every detective and policeman the world had to offer – including L.

He remembered that, before he had found the Death Note, his justice had been the same as L's – a murderer was a murderer no matter the circumstances and something as ludicrous as a human killing criminals with some kind of supernatural method shouldn't even exist.

Then he had actually found the Death Note and his life had changed – when he had seen that the hostages, that his first victim had held prisoner, had escaped unharmed, it had been like a switch had been thrown inside of him that had told him:

_Something good happens when criminals die! Look at the hostages! The children are alright, there are no injuries – you saved them!_

And a tiny voice in the back of his mind had told him:

_And you got away scot-free… Just imagine the possibilities!_

It had thrilled him, before a rational reaction had set in and he had – uneasily, but true – written it off as a coincidence.

The next use of the Note had broken the switch off, leaving it forever in that position, as he had watched the rapist-to-be be crushed by a truck, the victim escaping with just a scare.

It had formed his new justice, in which he, as the ultimate judge, was able to save innocent citizens from the evils that criminals committed.

At first every name that he wrote had cost him a lot of effort, but slowly, slowly the negative things he associated with killing had vanished, until he was able to simply erase anyone that tried to prevent him from creating a safe heaven for innocent people, with him, the Judge, as the ultimate and absolute power.

Whenever he got lost in thoughts like this while in his cell and Ryuuk whined about wanting apples while contorting his body, he wondered about the life the Death Note had given him and how much he had changed to live it.

If he told the Shinigami about the notebook that killed actually giving someone life, he was sure that the creature would stop whining and laugh until he collapsed, but in a way it was true for everyone who had ever used such a notebook.

Misa had been saved by a Shinigami, who had traded his life for hers and later Rem had given her a Death Note and thus giving her a new purpose – helping Kira and being his eyes.

And Light… before he had found his new reason for living, he had existed, but not really lived. Every day had been an endless chore for him that had consisted of waking up, going to school, going home, learning, going to cram school, going home, learning and finally going to bed, with only few things interrupting his tedious schedule.

With time, as he had realised that there was nothing else for him but unending boredom, with nothing there to challenge his sharp, brilliant mind, he had been frantic to find something to preoccupy his thoughts, no matter what it was.

But only at first, because _he hadn't been able to find anything to occupy his mind _and it had sometimes nearly brought him to tears – the feeling of wanting to do something, to think about something worthwhile, and being _unable to do so_.

After some time the despair had dulled to a constant ache in his chest, that made it difficult for him to stand upright, as it always seemed to drag him down, to the floor, like a large globe of lead in his chest, that made breathing difficult, made him lose his appetite and caused him to be incredibly tired, as he always had to carry it around.

Sometimes he had wondered in the morning, lying in his bed, a familiar ceiling above him, whether it was even worth it to get up, if one day was simply going to be a repeat of the previous one, as the familiar tiredness he couldn't seem to lose invaded his senses.

That had _changed _when he had found the Death Note.

At first he had thought that it was only a prank, but it had been something unusual and the instructions had been written in English, and so he had taken it with him, quietly pleased about a change in his unending, scheduled life, however small it was.

After he had killed the almost-rapist he had been horrified that he had killed two people, but underneath the horror, there had been a quiet thrill, as his subconscious had savoured the first real emotion he had felt in months, maybe even years.

He had killed, he had helped people with it and he had gotten away with it with nobody the wiser – the only thing that had bothered him was that he was unable to tell anyone about his changed sense of justice.

Even that had changed, though, when Ryuuk had showed up, then everything was perfect – he had the Death Note, which gave his tedious life _a meaning_, he had someone who listened to his various plots and schemes, the amount of his supporters was growing and it seemed that nothing stood in the way of his Utopia anymore.

Nothing, until L decided to show his face.

In a way, Light had been glad that the detective had decided to take the 'Kira-case' into his own hands, as he had already felt a new sphere of lead grow inside of him, only heavier this time and more unbearable after finally getting a taste of excitement.

When L had talked to him though the television, he had at the same time been thrilled and furious – thrilled, because with just a few words the detective had managed to dissolve the forming ball of lead to nothing and furious, because he had been tricked into giving up his general location.

That had been the start of the game the both of them played, both for their own version of justice, until it had gotten to the point, where Light was sitting in a cell because of a self-imposed confinement.

He knew that he would have to give up the ownership of his Death Note soon, but he could feel something inside of him balk at even the idea of giving up his reason for living. Light suspected that the thing inside of him was apprehension – something inside of him feared that, without the Death Note, he would regress to his old self, that hadn't lived and only existed – his old self, that couldn't eat or breathe because of the boredom that had manifested itself as a giant ball of lead in his chest, that he couldn't get rid of no matter what he did.

Taking several deep breaths, just in case he would be unable to do so in the future, he looked at Ryuuk, who was still contorted into a strange shape.

The Shinigami had told him that, one day, his name would be written into the Death Note and Light supposed that it was a fair thing to do – after all it was only natural for something to take what it had given in the first place.

Shoving his irrational apprehension into the back of his mind, he knew that, no matter what happened, L would never have the satisfaction of having killed Kira, because, before that happened, the Death Note, that had given him life, would take it again, mercilessly, guided by the hand of the Shinigami that had accompanied him for quite a long time.

It was time for him to start his plan after all… what did he have to lose?

* * *

Well, that's it, I hope you enjoyed it!

If you find any mistakes (grammar, spelling, etc.) please tell me and I'll do my best to fix them.

Yours,

TTF


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